


Common Ground

by LadyBrettAshley



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Hate Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fake dating for the sole purpose of couples therapy, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Hand & Finger Kink, Happily Ever After, I mean come on y’all should know by now all my stories feature hand kink, Love Languages, M/M, Masturbation, Pining, Rey is so thirsty, Rey is very angry with Ben yet Rey is very horny about Ben, Roommates, Roommates to lovers, Semi-Slow Burn, Service, acquaintances to enemies to lovers, couples therapy, is it a slow burn if Rey has exceptionally vivid fantasies about Ben, is it a slow burn if you can cut the sexual tension with a knife, physical touch, seriously get this girl some water
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:55:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29383095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBrettAshley/pseuds/LadyBrettAshley
Summary: Rey's thrilled when acquaintance (& crush) Ben offers to let her move into his spare bedroom.Three months in, she can't decide if she wants to fight him... or fuck him.Maybe their fake couples counseling sessions will help her figure it out.
Relationships: Rey & Ben Solo, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 41
Kudos: 69
Collections: Reylo Prompt Fills (@reylo_prompts)





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am not a therapist. I have done a significant amount of research on couple’s counseling and will be pulling from my own experience in therapy as well. But the focus of this story will remain on Ben and Rey’s relationship more so than the therapy.
> 
> -
> 
> Inspired by the Reylo Prompt & [Meg’s](https://twitter.com/hereforthefic) addition:
> 
> [](https://postimages.org/)  
> 

The box labeled “pillows” is unexpectedly heavy in Rey’s arms as she bounds up the stone steps just two stairs behind her new roommate.

Together, they’d converted Ben’s pristine livingroom into a cardboard metropolis. Haphazardly taped boxes labeled in Rey’s thick handwriting lay scattered across the floor and stacked on top of the coffee table, the kitchen island, and one another, fashioning a maze (read: fire hazard) of Rey’s belongings.

She hasn’t even started unpacking and already, she’s exhausted. 

However, Rey remains so grateful that Ben had swooped in at the eleventh hour and prevented her impending homelessness, she’s rather unconcerned that everything she’s ever owned is dispersed throughout a couple dozen boxes in a foreign space she would soon be sharing with someone she, quite frankly, doesn’t know all too well.

Ben stands with his hands on his hips, somewhat out of breath from completing his millionth circuit from Rey’s moving truck to his 14th floor apartment this morning. And that’s not to say that Ben is not in shape because between his defined abs and bulging pecs- his muscles are so bountiful, Rey can practically see them _through_ his black hoodie.

His immaculate forearms are on display (and so, _so_ distracting) with his sleeves bunched up to his elbows. The tight, corded muscles bulge with each grip, lift, and shift, and by the time the last box had been deposited onto their living room floor, she’s memorized every ridge, plane, and protrusion of those muscles.

Ben brushes his hair out of his face and Rey imprints the inside of his wrist into her memory- its width and the visible veins that wreathe down the length of his forearm like ribbons. She’s taken by its strength, hearty enough to support the weight and motions of his massive hand and thick fingers, and flexible enough to balance her belongings while simultaneously holding the door open for her. 

She’d like to know how that wrist looks supporting the weight of his entire body as he hovers over her.

Rey bites her lip when Ben calls her name and she wonders what it would sound like if he was moaning it, with his eyes locked on her tits while she bounces on his cock.

For the record, Rey knows how inappropriate it is to be crushing on her brand new roommate. 

It’s just that… Ben has been in her life for a couple years now and from the day they first met, her attraction to him has only grown. 

It’s not Rey’s fault that he looks so simultaneously sexy and sweet when his thick, dark hair falls into his eyes, and he sometimes takes a second too long to thread his fingers through the strands and brush it away. She can’t help it if his hands are so big that they dwarf whatever he’s holding. And consequently, she’s a willing captive of the fantasies flooding her mind: him on his knees, huge hands encasing her waist and lifting her clear off the mattress, easing her body back and forth. Her on top of him, rolling her hips in tandem with his, two of those thick fingers filling her mouth, so heavy on her tongue.

* * *

Poe had brought him around back in the day, old friends from neighboring home towns, and while Ben remained nothing more than an acquaintance who ran somewhere in her outer circle, he sure was lovely to look at. And Rey knew they were the only friends he had; his 70+ hour work week kept him chained to his desk at First Order Law. 

Ben seemed to enjoy his job there--or at least he _said_ he did when he would finally join them 30 minutes late for weekly trivia at their favorite bar, or after missing the first half of whatever football game they all agreed to watch together. It wasn’t until Rey found herself alone with him at Rose and Hux’s engagement party, two cups of Poe’s infamous Jungle Juice in, that he started spilling his secrets. 

Turns out, he hated his job. He never minded working 70+ hours a week until suddenly, his work wasn’t _good_ enough, wasn’t _elaborate_ enough, wasn’t _blah, blah… whatever_ enough. But he was forced into picking up more slack than he could handle when one of the partners left the firm, and they were grooming Ben to eventually take over that position. Rey learned that night that Ben wasn’t even sure he wanted it.

Then Rey started spilling secrets. She confided in him about what Rose’s engagement meant for her: mostly, that she would have to move out of their apartment so Armie could move in. Truthfully, Rey was ecstatic for Rose and Armie, and she even _volunteered_ to move out. But now that the time had come, Rey was starting to panic. With no leads on a new apartment, and barely enough savings for a security deposit, let alone multiple months of rent, it was looking like she was going to have to _Three’s Company_ it with Rose and Armie for a while. 

But… ugh. If their engaged life is anything like their dating life, Rey was going to need to invest in some high-quality earplugs.

Ben laughed so hard at that, he nearly spilled his fourth cup of Jungle Juice, and Rey noticed his laugh was higher-pitched when he’d been drinking. She melted when a second, deeper smile line formed in his cheek, following the curve of the innermost crease perfectly; together, they framed his plush lips.

“Move in with me,” he’d said once his laughter subsided.

Then it was Rey’s turn to chuckle and Ben’s face fell. 

“Wait, are you serious?”

“Yes,” he said, and the slur entwined throughout his syllables didn’t concern her enough. “Of course I’m serious. Rey, I live in a two bedroom apartment. I would just have to move my desk and treadmill out of that spare room for you and it could be yours.”

Rey should have been relieved that she had a place to go. And that it would be an easy transition because she and Ben were friends. Kind of. Well, at least she knows him, and she wouldn’t have to deal with the whole awkward new roommate thing. 

But she also didn’t _really_ know him. Ben didn’t let a lot of people in; she knew the feeling. She’d also never lived with a man before. It probably wasn’t _much_ different than living with Rose, but she had a feeling she’d be saying goodbye to junk food nights with mani/pedis and face masks (although Ben’s skin was suspiciously nice... maybe the face masks could stay). 

And rent… Ben lived in an expensive neighborhood. Utilities would be more, too. He had a sizable apartment. And it was farther from work.

_Those_ were the things she should have considered- the practicality of it all.

Instead, Rey’s mind swirled with fantastical pros and possibilities. For example, what Ben wears to bed, and if he’s one of those guys who never has a shirt on inside his own home. Part of her thinks he might be too uppity for that, but then she considers he might like the freedom that comes with being shirtless. Hell, she used to walk around her apartment in sports bras and panties all the time. She supposed she probably couldn't do that if she agreed to move in with Ben.

Probably.

But then he told her he’ll split the rent with her 70/30 because he has the bigger bedroom and it’s closer to the bathroom. And she was still flabbergasted why he even offered to let her move in but before she could question him further, she nodded her head, and they toasted with Poe’s Jungle Juice and called each other ‘roomie’ before the end of the night.

Well, Rey called Ben ‘roomie,’ and every time she did, he offered up another reason as to why she should move in with him, as though she’d change her mind. Throughout the night, Rey learned that his building has a gym, and a rooftop outdoor space. It’s close to a couple of different grocery stores, so she can pick her favorite, and he has HBO if she’s interested. He also has a Keurig _and_ an espresso machine, and her bedroom doesn’t have a curtain rod but he’d be happy to install one for her.

It all sounded so great. What could possibly go wrong?

* * *

Rey sighs and tears into her first of many boxes, the gorgeous New York City skyline just outside the largest, cleanest windows she’s ever seen in an apartment, she can’t imagine why Ben would ever think even for a second that she wouldn’t want to live here.

“Are you hungry?” he asks, crossing his arms at the hem of his hoodie and pulling it up and over his head. The t-shirt he has underneath rides up, exposing the elastic of his underwear, and the trail of hair that climbs his tummy like ivy toward his bellybutton. His stomach is so toned and tight, with sharp lines and hard muscles and before she gets a glimpse of his (presumably perfect) pecs and shoulders, the hoodie is off and the thin cotton t-shirt falls back into place. “Rey?” he asks, folding his sweatshirt in mid-air.

Rey wonders how he’s doing that without a designated surface.

“Um, yeah,” she says, still distracted by his aero-folding. “I… I’m kinda hungry.”

Ben orders pizza and teases her about her taste in music as she finally gets her phone hooked up to the Bluetooth speaker in the living room. He cleans out an entire cabinet for her kitchen items. Not that she has a lot of those- just some wine glasses and coffee mugs she’s fond of and her beloved cast iron skillet, but she’s grateful he’s being so considerate. 

He even gives her the last garlic knot. 

Ben’s apparently not a big leftover guy but Rey digs through her boxes to find her Pyrex, and safely stores the remaining pizza inside the fridge before she and her glass of wine find the couch. Her body aches, her mind is exhausted. Every molecule of her body is running on empty after the emotional and physical toll moving day had taken on her.

Ben sits suspiciously close to her. She could chalk it up to the fact that in order to fall onto the couch, he had to maneuver around two boxes, a hair straightener, and a few random items that fell victim to the floor in order for her to dig out that particular box’s bottommost contents. Regardless, she feels the heat radiating off the side of his body when he reaches for the remote and she _shivers_. 

It would be _so_ irresponsible for her to get involved with her roommate-- Rey knows this. In fact, she’s been reciting that line over and over in her head since she watched him bend over and lift a box labeled ‘Books’ as though it weighed less than the box of pillows she’d struggled with earlier this morning. 

And now, she’s starting to wonder if she’s made a huge mistake because as he adjusts the volume of the tv and his wide thumb nudges several buttons on the remote control, he subsequently changes the channel as well. She’s not sure there will be a single day where she doesn't want him to put those fingers inside of her.

Hell, he can fuck her with the remote for all she cares.

Her vivid and steadfast lusting appears to be in vain, however, when she doesn’t feel him looking at her throughout the first half of the movie. He keeps several inches away from her on the couch, and he flinches when she lies on her side. The couch’s arm rest cradles her head as she swings her bent legs onto the plush cushion and her little toes hardly graze his thigh before he pulls his leg away to ensure no part of her is touching him. Though a little embarrassing, it's probably for the best.

If Rey wants to live copacetically in this gorgeous apartment with Ben, then she is just going to have to tamp down some of these hyper-sexual thoughts about him. 

And that’s fine (read: _so_ unfair).

But when her heavy, tired muscles loosen and her feet slide to their most comfortable position- with her toes barely touching his leg for the second time, she’s hardly awake enough to realize he doesn’t move away from her.

She’s barely coherent enough to even feel the way he stares at her, eyelids heavy, blinks three seconds longer than they should be.

Rey’s consciousness is hanging on by a half of a thread, but she feels every fiber of the knitted blanket that Ben grabs from the back of the couch to drape over her huddled sleeping form.

And when he rests his massive hand on top of her feet, helping to keep them warm and igniting electricity from her toes, through her ankles, up her legs and straight to her core, her eyes open so intently, her eyelashes nearly hit her brows.

Suddenly, she’s not so tired.


	2. Meal Prep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tags updated to include masturbation

Rey is spent.

She’s out of breath, thighs screaming, hips aching, and there’s a very distinct throb sparking behind her left kneecap. A sharp ache plagues her throat as she sucks in the chilly winter air.

But Ben is relentless. His breaths are steady, in perfect sync with his motions as he propels forward, his hands in fists, and hair falling into his face as he grunts.

“One more?” he breathes.

“No, I can’t,” Rey pants. 

“You can,” he promises.

She groans, taking a deep breath, attempting to fill her lungs and she missteps, throwing her diaphragm out of alignment. “I can’t, Ben.”

“Come on, Rey, you got this! One more… one more mile, let’s go!”

His tone of voice tells her he’s determined and Rey sighs as she regains her rhythm and continues running alongside him. Ben’s legs are longer than hers and she can tell he’s restraining himself, like he always does on their runs to keep pace with her.

Rey wants to cry, and she thinks if she could breathe, she would. They’d agreed upon six miles this morning, nothing too crazy. A quick 10k to kick off their Saturday and Rey was ready for those six miles. Her feet were primed, her legs were prepared. But Ben wanting to tack on another mile sounds about as daunting as it’ll be to hold an ice pack on her knee for the rest of the day.

“Rey, let’s _go_ , pick it up, you can do it. I know it.”

A grunt explodes from her mouth without her permission and suddenly, Rey is flying. Her feet hardly even hit the pavement. Her legs feel strong and sure, carrying the rest of her lean body almost on instinct as her runner’s high takes her away. 

She’s lacking the proper amount of oxygen and her dehydration must be sublime because a surge of endorphins explodes inside of her. And she’s pulling ahead of Ben and he’s having to double-step to keep up with her. Rey’s inopportune breathing is no longer her priority as she yells to Ben, “let’s go for two more!”

Two turns into three and after a total of nine miles for the morning, Ben and Rey find themselves sitting on the steps to their brownstone, panting and comparing their workout data between their watches and their phones. The ailment in her knee has subsided, though she wouldn’t be surprised if it pops up later.

For now, however, she’s thrilled. Rey gasps as she compares her times and looks at Ben. “I P-R’d the ten-k portion of our run,” she says. “I can’t believe it.”

“I can believe it!” Ben says. “You were great today. At the end, I was having a hard time keeping up with you!”

Her pride swells. She loves impressing him. Beams when he commends her for a job well done. She rides that elation all the way up to their apartment and he lets her shower first so he can untape his knee. 

The water beats on Rey’s chest and neck as she tilts her head from side to side. She’s hopeful those two extra miles ran off the tension that’d been steadily rising between Ben and her since she’d moved in. 

At least for today. 

She lets water collect in her mouth and spits it out knowing she shouldn’t hold her breath when it comes to her roommate.

Outside of the apartment, they’re great--running partners, drinking buddies. They play off of each other so well. But there’s something about the _living_ that’s difficult. Here, in their shared home, they’re at war and it would be less exhausting if they just decided to spend all of their time hating one another.

Sure, there are the times they cook together, or the rare times they actually agree on the same movie. Occasionally, they’ll grocery shop together and execute their list flawlessly. 

And then there are the moments Rey finds Ben standing a little too close to her--closer than roommates get. Or the occasions he’ll wrap an arm around the back of her chair like it’s no big deal. He’s even caught her staring a few times: measuring the plumpness of his lips or counting the beauty marks decorating his face. She no longer bothers looking away.

Rey gives her hair one last wring before stepping out of the shower and realizing somewhere between her runner’s high and praise kink, she forgot a change of clothes. Shit, she’s going to have to run across the apartment in only a towel.

Again.

Her sweaty sports bra and leggings lay in a sopping, steaming heap on the floor. She eyes them as she wraps her towel around her body and grabs her Garmin watch before sneaking out of the bathroom.

Ben’s waiting for her to emerge, his shirt off and clean clothes in hand. Rey attempts to sneak by him without counting his abs or measuring the trail of hair that starts at his belly button and disappears beneath the waistband of his shorts. She figures she’d need to remove the shorts, too. For proper measurement, of course. 

And maybe she would be concerned with how brazen she’s being but he’s staring at her just as obnoxiously, his eyes swallowing every inch of her legs, bare from toe to upper thigh.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, shuffling off to her bedroom and Ben groans as he closes the bathroom door behind him.

As luck would have it, the only times Rey forgets a post-shower change of clothes seem to be when Ben is waiting for her to vacate the bathroom. 

She dresses, brushes her hair and lies back on her bed before pulling her running app up on her phone. Reviewing her stats, she feels almost as high as she did in mile eight. She reviews their route and replays Ben’s praise, _“I can believe it! You were great today. At the end, I was having a hard time keeping up with you!”_

If she wasn’t so exhausted, she would do something with those words--think about them, play them over and over in tune with her fingers. Marinate on them as she thrusts those fingers as deeply as she possibly can while she dreams of Ben pressing her bent leg to her chest and hitting her even deeper. 

Her leg twitches at the thought and as predicted, the ache in her knee has returned. Rey heads out of her bedroom, nose still pointed at her cell phone screen, still unable to look anywhere other than her broken record when she runs into Ben, a bundle of fabric under one arm, snatching _her_ ice bag from the freezer for _his_ knee. 

“Rey, can you please stop leaving your clothes on the bathroom floor?” Ben whines, tossing her sweaty shirt at her.

“Ugh! Ben these are gross.”

“Exactly, Rey. Exactly why I don’t want you leaving them on the bathroom floor. And can you please clean your hair out of the shower drain? I’m so sick of it. It’s seriously so gross.”

“Alright, I’m sorry,” she says but her inflection says otherwise.

Ben rolls his eyes. “Don’t be sorry, just do it.”

“Okay, we had just a good morning, Ben,” she snaps. “Remember our run? What happened?”

Scoffing, Ben plants his hands on his hips. “What happened? You leave your gross workout stuff on the floor, you don’t even bother to pick your hair up, and then the towel-”

“The towel?” Her heart drops. Her intent was not for him to see her in the towel but if he was having _thoughts_ , she maybe could push this argument to the side.

“Yeah, I bet that damp towel is laying on your bedroom floor, isn’t it?”

Fuck.

“Oh, for god’s sake, Ben.”

“Should I go check?”

_Not unless you’re going to whip me with it._

“No,” she says. “You should not go check. I was going to pick it up-” but before she can finish, Ben’s already let out a humorless chuckle. He’s got a glass of water in one hand now and he’s ignoring her as he storms off in the direction of his own bedroom. 

Rey rubs her palm over her eyebrow in frustration as she pads toward their shared bathroom. The clothes, the hair… it’s not like she means to forget these things but they just kind of... slip her mind. And she’ll be damned if Ben ever misses anything _ever._

He’d thrown her gross hairball into the trash for her which makes everything worse, somehow. Rey grabs the rest of her cold, damp clothes, and heads to her bedroom to fetch the infamous towel. She’s really been hoping for a good day with Ben; one where they could grab breakfast together, maybe stretch together. 

_Oh, yeah, stretch me out._

The first week she’d moved in, he hadn’t bothered her about any of her bad habits. They just ran together, and cooked together, and _lived_ together, and it was bliss. And now, Ben had done a complete 180, like he had changed his mind about everything and couldn’t even stand to be around her anymore.

Considering she still had 9 months in her lease (read: nowhere else to go), she was going to have to be the bigger person. She could deal with the nagging if he maybe just gave her a break, but damn if it doesn't feel like it’s every second of every day.

Rey throws her wet hair up into a messy bun and grabs her keys on her way out of the apartment. She takes the stairwell to keep her legs moving, ignoring the shards of pain plaguing _both_ knees and knocks on Poe and Finn’s door. She’s sure they heard her arguing with Ben and are going to patronize her for it, but she can’t be bothered.

When she moved in, she knew they lived in the building, but she didn’t realize her floor would be their ceiling until about a week later.

“Can I hide out here for a bit?” Rey asks when Finn opens the door. He sighs, but moves to the side to let her in.

“What’d you do this time?” Poe asks over his shoulder, standing at the stove.

“Okay, in my defense…” Rey starts and they both roll their eyes.

She recaps their entire morning from the start of their run at 6:00am up until she’d snuck out of their apartment and headed downstairs. They stare blankly at her until Poe’s pancake starts to bubble in the pan and he has to flip it.

Poe hops on his metaphorical soapbox, all but using his spatula as a microphone to say for the millionth time: ‘I told you moving in together was a bad idea.’ And fine, okay, he was right but there’s not much she can do about it now. 

He can tell she’s barely listening.

“Want some pancakes?”

Rey scoffs. “Have you met me?”

Suddenly, the front door opens and Ben appears, his body consuming most of the door frame. When Rey sees him, her shoulders sag, but her heart rate speeds up. His body tenses at the sight of her perched on a barstool at the island and Rey coils up defensively.

“I thought you were napping,” Ben says. 

“Nope, coherent and ready for pancakes,” Rey quips.

“Okay, I’ll leave.”

Finn groans. “Can’t you two pull it together for these next few months? Or at least for breakfast?!”

Rey looks at Ben, waits for him to answer. As far as she’s concerned, _he’s_ the one with all of the issues. She’s chill, goes with the flow, never complains about anything and he’s uptight, he needs control over everything, he nags her. 

Oh, god, the _nagging_.

Ben hasn’t said anything after what feels like at least a week, and Poe has long since returned to his pancakes.

“I mean,” Rey shrugs and she can tell Finn is relieved she broke the silence. “I can put my differences away.”

“Sure,” Ben says, an incredulous smirk stretched across his features. “Put them away like you put those last two boxes away? You moved in three months ago, Rey. I think the stuff in them can find their proper places.”

“Oh good,” Poe deadpans. “I’m so glad your bickering isn’t exclusive to your home.”

Rey rolls her lips between her teeth and buries her face in her hands. She’s so exhausted. She’s not sure how she can possibly live like this for nine more months. 

“You know what you two are?” Finn asks, smiling ironically. “You’re difficult.”

“No, we’re not!” Ben and Rey exclaim in unison.

Poe and Finn shoot each other a look. “Guys,” Poe starts. “You two are exceptionally difficult, and stubborn, and you have very strong personalities-”

“You better be going somewhere with this,” Ben warns.

“I am,” Poe promises. “I love you both, but something’s gotta give here. Maybe you should try therapy.”

“I highly doubt there’s roommate therapy,” Ben says.

“No, but there’s couple’s therapy,” Poe says. “You two are basically an old married couple arguing about everything.”

“We are not!” Ben and Rey shout in unison. Again.

Finn facepalms. 

“We’re not even a couple,” Rey says, and it kind of almost kills her, interestingly enough. Her libido never got the memo that Ben is her naggy arch nemesis.

“The therapist doesn't have to know that,” Poe says. “And you don’t even need to be in turmoil to talk to someone, which you two clearly are, but Finn and I go every other week and it’s done so much for our communication and trust. It’s been so great for our relationship.”

Finn places his hand over Poe’s and Rey smiles.

“Okay, that’s all well and great,” Ben says. “But again, we’re not _in_ a relationship.”

“Just because you’re not in a romantic relationship doesn’t mean you’re not in a relationship. You guys are friends and roommates and you’re not getting along right now and maybe if you actually communicated, instead of snapping and running away, the rest of the year will be bearable. Maybe even help you two get along. You know, find some things in common.”

There is nothing on the face of this earth Rey hates more than when Poe is right. And by the look on Ben’s face, he clearly feels the same way. 

There. There’s something she and Ben have in common. 

“I’ll give you our therapist’s card. Use it, or don’t. But for the love of god, stop screaming, because we can hear everything, and stop trying to hide out here!”

Rey doesn’t contribute much to the rest of their conversation and Finn is keenly aware of it. She can feel him watching her, studying her. As though he’s peeling back the thoughts in her mind to figure out what’s really going on. It both unnerves and comforts her.

Finn, her protector, her best friend, her big brother. He knows she’s not okay. She just hopes he can’t tell how _much_ she’s not okay.

—

Sunday evenings mean meal prep in the Solo-Niima apartment. Ben cooks chicken and chops vegetables, and Rey packages all of it neatly into their containers. She’d never planned her weekly meals before living with Ben but after doing so, she found an extra $150 in her bank account each month from eating lunch at her desk.

And this is the part that kills Rey-- working together, achieving a common goal. He doesn’t undercook her chicken, and she always tries to give him the most broccoli because it’s his favorite. They could be so great to one another--so great _for_ one another--so why must he be such an ass all the time?

“Hey, I got these fancy gouda cubes at the grocery store this week,” Ben says, opening the refrigerator. “Want some?”

“Duh,” Rey replies.

He laughs as he dishes them out, filling the empty corners in each of their planned meal boxes. 

If it were all bad, Rey knows she would care less, knows it would all be so much easier. 

But then they have these moments, where they’re bettering themselves in running, and playing together in the kitchen, and things feel so real. But she refuses to be in a relationship where all she does is fight. Her job is way too demanding for that type of chaos and she knows Ben doesn't have the time for that either.

But this rollercoaster of good, bad, great, horrible is wearing on her. 

“Rey?” Ben asks on his way to his room. “I’m only asking this because… I do care about you and I care about us and our ability to live here together, so… what if we did give the couple’s therapy thing a shot. I mean, it can’t hurt, and I know I could work on my communication skills. You could…” Very smartly, Ben stops himself here when Rey’s eyebrows pop curiously toward her hairline. “We just have some things we could work on together.”

And while she’s still so exhausted, she’s hopeful. She takes a deep breath. “Okay, let’s do it.”

“Yeah?” he asks, his soft smile tugging at every sexual (and non-sexual for that matter) part of her brain.

She nods sleepily as he mentions his own exhaustion and closes the door behind him.

And yet, despite her weariness, when she lies down beneath the covers- after removing her makeup, brushing her teeth, and applying her nighttime skin care routine- her hand finds its way beneath the waistband of her panties. Her middle finger toys with her clit, circles slowly, gets herself warmed up. She squeezes a breast with her other hand, pinches her nipple and continues to massage it even after she’s slipped out of her panties and reached for her vibrator.

It buzzes in her hand, rattles against her, draws stress and anxiety out of her, bundles them into one tiny ball of pleasure and tosses the whole package off the bed.

At least for a few moments when she pictures Ben stripping in front of her- shirt first, then his pants- she’s in bliss. In her fantasies, he’s always wearing black boxer briefs because that’s what his laundry basket tells her he wears and she’s lost a bet or two where laundry had been her punishment. He’s always rock-hard for her, ready to take her, and in her mind, she skips the foreplay, and his weight eases onto her. He stretches her legs wider with his pelvis and sinks into her, fills her wholly, and hurts her a little bit while her body attempts to recover and make room for him.

Because now he’s thrusting above her and his lips are on her neck, and her hand is in his hair, and she can imagine how big his cock actually is, the image inferred from what she’s seen of him around the house in loose plaid pajama pants with nothing on underneath. Her heel digs into where that back pocket would be and his fingers are whispering, vibrating sins in her dream, and Rey sucks in a breath of air as her building orgasm becomes too much and she topples over the edge.

With a silent scream, she rides out her orgasm, and finishes with ringing ears and spots in her eyes.

She clicks her vibrator off and her head falls to the side. She attempts to control her breathing. Attempts to regulate her overly-sexual thoughts about her pain-in-the-ass roommate and sighs.

Yeah, it would be a lot less exhausting if Rey could package Ben up into a box in the back of her mind labeled ‘hate.’

But she can’t. So when she falls asleep, she falls hard. And dreams of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Put it on your calendars, y'all. Cause next week, Ben & Rey start couple's therapy.
> 
> As always, thank you to my lovely beta, [Meg](https://twitter.com/hereforthefic). Happy Grammar Day! Thank you for keeping my commas in check and just being the overall bestest.
> 
> Say hi on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/UHadMeAt_Reylo)

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the calm before the storm. This prologue takes place three months before chapter 1, so buckle up.
> 
> Thank you to my lovely beta, [Meg](https://twitter.com/hereforthefic). You are the absolute best!
> 
> Thank you for reading! I would love to know your thoughts ❤️
> 
> I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/UHadMeAt_Reylo) if you wanna say hi!


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